Chapter 10 #2
“I’m processing,” I told her, feeling irritation rise. Mostly because I was processing. Unfortunately, processing did not become faster just because an audience was watching.
“You’ve had several minutes.”
“I process slowly under pressure.”
“Close it,” she ordered.
“Fine.” I turned toward it. The thing twisted in place near the center of the room, red and black currents shifting slowly inside it.
It sat ten feet from my couch. Near my coffee table.
Like dimensional tears belonged next to decorative candles, throw blankets, and Ruth’s weird seasonal squirrel figurines.
“Okay, portal,” I said quietly. “You can close now. I don’t need you anymore.”
Nothing happened. Not even a courtesy flicker. The magical equivalent of being left on read.
Dolores pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Portal,” I tried again. “I’m done with you. Go away.”
Again, nothing. The thing just continued rotating lazily, apparently secure in the knowledge that it was the most important object in the room.
“Thank you for your service,” I told it. “Your cooperation has been appreciated.”
Ronin folded his arms. “Try sounding more authoritative.”
I gave him a look. “I am.” Short of threatening it with magical tax audits, I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do.
Beverly calmly stood, pulled out her compact and started to apply lipstick with the focus of a surgeon preparing for a delicate procedure.
“What are you doing?” snapped Dolores, glaring at her sister.
Beverly smacked her lips together. “If handsome men start walking through dimensional doorways, I want to be prepared. Opportunities don’t always send advance notice.”
Of course she did. Somewhere in Beverly’s mind, an unstable interdimensional portal ranked somewhere between speed dating and online shopping.
“Move,” Dolores said, gesturing at me. “This requires a witch with innate skill, focus, and exceptional control. Me.” Dolores stepped forward and rolled her shoulders like she was about to wrestle reality into submission.
“You don’t know Nexari magic,” I told her.
“I know White magic.”
“This isn’t White magic.”
“Magic is magic,” informed Dolores, with all the confidence of someone who had never once been wrong in her entire life. Then she proceeded to completely ignore me as though the conversation had reached its natural and obvious conclusion.
The scent of wild flowers and pine filled the room, thick enough to make it feel like a forest had abruptly moved into my living room and was considering paying property taxes. My skin riddled in goosebumps as I felt Dolores’s White magic energy rolling outward in waves.
“Claudere porta inter mundos,” she said sharply. “Lux alba. Claudere. Claudere. Claudere.”
I watched, hopeful despite myself. If Dolores couldn’t close a magical portal, that raised several uncomfortable questions I wasn’t emotionally prepared to explore. But nothing happened.
Dolores narrowed her eyes. “Claudere.” Her tone suggested reality itself was being given a final warning before disciplinary action became necessary.
Nothing.
Dolores planted her feet, raised her arms and shouted, “Claudere!” putting enough authority into the word to make several decorative items rattle on nearby shelves.
Still nothing.
The portal continued existing. It simply remained exactly where it was, calmly spinning in place. Still humming. Still existing in my cottage like dimensional nonsense belonged there.
Something inside me tightened.
I’d had enough. The prison. Addison. Darian. Everything. Too much.
I stepped toward the portal one more time. No more negotiating or asking politely for it to cooperate. I was done.
I closed my eyes and reached inward, past the exhaustion and fear and panic. I pulled on my magic and felt it stir beneath my skin. Heat spread slowly into my fingers, my arms, and my chest. I thought of Grimway. Of Allison sick and dying. Of Addison.
And then of Darian. Safe. Sleeping. Home.
Close.
One word. Simple and clear.
Close.
The Nexari power surged.
The portal twisted violently. Red and black glowing energy warped. Wind exploded outward hard enough Ruth yelped, Beverly grabbed her wine, Dolores swore loudly, and Marcus moved instantly toward me.
Then, suddenly, the portal folded inward and collapsed.
It was gone.
Ronin slowly looked around. “Well,” he said quietly. “That felt expensive.”
I sighed, feeling both relieved and a little disappointed that my portal—yes, my portal—was gone.
And, yes, it had terrified the crap out of me, but it also filled me with a sense of pride and strength and uniqueness.
I used to think being a Shadow witch was incredible enough. Then I became a Nexari witch.
And now I had portal mojo.
Yay me.
I looked at Marcus. “How’s Darian? Any changes?”
Marcus exhaled slowly beside me. “He’s been fine since you left. Whatever Ruth gave him worked.”
My gaze flicked back to my kid. He twitched slightly in his sleep, tiny fingers curling tighter into the blanket while his breathing stayed slow, steady, and peaceful. Exactly how he should be.
My chest tightened. “Thank the cauldron,” I whispered. “But we still need to figure out what Addison did.”
Because Addison lied about her sister. About the prison. About everything.
And if she’d touched my kid—
I’d find out why.
And then I’d make her pay.
But first… I needed to speak with my father.